Hurt
by gothic lolita darling
Summary: When the boys are younger Sam gets hurt on hunts often, and its always Dean's job to patch him up


"Sam hurry up!" Dean yelled, leaping over a fallen log in his way as he looked over his shoulder to see if Sam was falling behind again. Stupid, stupid is what this whole thing was why the hell had dad insisted on bringing Sam hunting tonight when he knew it would be dangerous, well more dangerous than usual. He threw another glance back and panicked when he realized Sam was no longer right on his tail, almost falling over his own feet.

"Dean!"

He crashed to a halt trying to pinpoint where Sams' voice had come from, turning back fully aware he was walking right back towards a collapsing building and an angry spirit but he had to find his baby brother.

"Dean over here!" Sam yelled again, his voice trailing into a small whimper. Dean finally caught sight of him tangled in the brush.

"Sammy what happened?" Dean trampled carelessly through the undergrowth trying to reach him.

"I tripped and fell and got stuck." Sam whimpered, "I can't get up." Fear and embarrassment were scrawled all across his small face, Dean could read it all too well even in the dim moonlight, he felt like he'd failed, screwed up, done something wrong. Dean knelt down next to him and pulled the flashlight out of his pocket to examine the situation; the narrow beam of light illuminated Sam sprawled on the ground tangled in thorny vines his ankle twisted unnaturally.

"Oh Sammy." Dean sighed, all he could do was hope the spirit had pursued their dad instead while he worked to untangle his brother. Sam sat silently as Dean started hacking the thick ropes of thorns away with his knife, cringing a little himself as he tugged away spots that pulled flesh along under the denim. After what felt like an eternity Sam was finally able to pull free but still couldn't put enough pressure on his ankle to stand, looking around frantically for something to pull himself up with.

Dean sighed again and knelt back down, hooking his arms under his brothers he hauled him up, swinging one arm under his legs as soon as he was upright so he was secure against his chest; lucky Sam was still small enough to be carried easily.

Sam clasped his hands behind Deans' neck and buried his face in his chest in embarrassment, afraid he might have botched the whole hunt.

"It's ok Sammy, it's ok." Dean murmured into his hair, stroking it gently; accurately reading his brother without even looking at him.

The Impala was gone when they reached the road, stifling a groan of irritation Dean shifted his grip on Sam. Looked like he was going to have to carry him all the way back to the motel and his skinny ass was already starting to get heavy.

By the time they finally reached the motel Sam had fallen asleep, arms and legs dangling limply. Dean set him down on the stiff comforter and shook him gently.

"C'mon Sammy, get up and let me take a look." He shook his shoulder one more time and went to dig out the first aid kit.

He came back to Sam sitting on the edge of the bed rubbing his eyes blearily as he attempted to squirm out of his jeans one handed.

"Did I screw everything up Dean? Is that why dads not here?" Sam mumbled sadly.

"No he's just finishing up, now sit still." Dean lied smoothly; he had no idea where their dad had gone but that wasn't what was important at the moment. "Does anything other than your ankle hurt?"

"My knees." Sam spoke quietly looking downward, his too long hair hanging in his face. Dean tugged his jeans the rest of the way down wincing at the sight of Sams' gashed open raw bleeding knees, accented by a myriad of smaller scratches and scrapes from the thorns.

"Sam-my." Dean groaned, Sam didn't respond only continued staring resolutely at the floor. "Ok I'm gonna wrap your ankle first get that out of the way." Dean just kept talking despite the fact Sam wasn't responding, it made him feel more in control sometimes to say what needed to be done out loud as if it kept him on track.

He was trying his best to be gentle but Sam was still making small hurt sounds every time he so much as touched his ankle, Dean was starting to seriously worry it was broken, "Sshh, it's ok Sammy I'm almost done then we'll get your knees cleaned up." He murmured trying to distract his brother as he had to crack the ankle into place one last time to bind it. Sam couldn't help it and yelped loudly, tears welling up in his eyes. Dean just silently squeezed his hand and got out the hydrogen peroxide to clean his cuts.

"Almost done Sammy." Dean wiped the wounds with a soft wet cloth as he assessed if any of them needed stitches or even a bandaid; his knees were definitely the worst.

"I screwed it all up Dean." Sam spoke so quietly Dean could barely hear him.

"Would you just stop trying to blame yourself Sam." Dean snapped, regretting it almost instantly. Sam almost unconsciously pulled away back further into the bed. Instead of trying to apologize Dean just kept fixing him up, putting large bandaids on his knees he leaned over and lightly kissed each one like their mom had when dad had insisted he learn to ride a bike or he fell out of a tree.

Standing in the middle of the room Dean didn't know if he could crawl in the other bed or if their dad would be back that night, or if Sam would even want him around that night. As he considered his options out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of Sams' wide pleading puppy dog eyes. Looked like that decision was made, he smiled as he crawled in next to him, careful not to bump his ankle.

**So this probably isn't great I feel like it's not my best writing but I hope you enjoy it :) let me know what you think I'm still learning their characters but I think my other attempt was better**


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